


Honey, You're Familiar (Like My Mirror)

by Swanssmile



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/M, I Don't Know Where This Is Going, I haven't got the characters all figured out yet so bear with me, I know me there will be some m rated stuff later, Mariví and Ángel ship Serquel as much as we do, Mariví doesn't have Alzheimers!, Mutual Pining, Or do they?, Paula is a cute lil bean, Pining, Raquel and Mariví are lovers of fine wine, Raquel deserves an award for best mom, Raquel needs a hug, Sergio is a gentleman, They just don't know, and the cutest of them all, and very much in love, as will the rating, but I tweeted something about it and people loved the idea so here it is, enjoy this i guess, everyone falls in love with Sergio, oh boi, possible future mentions of abuse, so is Sergio, tags will be updated as we go, they're Youtubers guys, though nothing too detailed, Ángel is a baby protect him, Ángel is like Paulas uncle, Ángel is so soft in this fic please give him love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23514577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swanssmile/pseuds/Swanssmile
Summary: Raquel Murillo is a popular beauty/lifestyle Youtuber. Sergio Marquina is a popular nature/wanderlust vlogger. Their friendly rivalry has come in handy for both their follower counts, but really people love it so much because they used to be together. Like, in a serious relationship. Very much in love. Read as they navigate their way through hardcore shippers and stans while trying to uphold their skyrocketing Youtube career and their status as rivals. And ex-lovers.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 57
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is definitely borrowed from Hozier's "From Eden". This whole thing exists because I tweeted something and people seemed to like it. I really have no clue where I'm going with this and I hereby warn you of my commitment issues I have with fics that are longer than two chapters, but I'll try to make it work. There's no real beta reader for this yet so I hope you'll forgive me possible spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language. The only thing I have left to say is Ángel Rubio is a soft guy who needs a hug and he's also such a good friend. Please love him. Thanks.

“Okay! You’re all set!” Ángel’s thumbs up appeared above the camera, giving Raquel the usual starting signal. A last look into the mirror behind the camera, a last check to see if her hair fell the right way, her make up was in place and the light supported her appearance. Go.

She looked right ahead, a genuine smile on her face. “Hello my beauties, welcome to another video. For today, I’ve kind of planned something different: You guys are my crux and you support me with all your heart, no matter what and I’m so incredibly thankful to have you. You’ve been with me through the good and bad times“ - at this point, she let out a humorous little laugh – “kind of like in a marriage. So, I wanted to give some of the love back that you show me every day.” With a suspenseful smile she reached behind her to pull her phone out of her back pocket. “Today, I’ll be reading and responding to some of your comments!” The grin on her face was as genuine as ever as she unlocked her phone, tapped on her last video and scrolled down to her comments.

“First up we have – and I’m sorry if I don’t quite get your name right – Nashua E. That’s a really cute profile picture by the way.” She paused to look up and wink at the camera before she resumed reading. “I clicked as soon as the notification came, and I liked your video before I even started watching. After finishing it I can only say thank you for another great video and I love your creativeness.” Raquel felt warmth and gratefulness flooding her. “Ahw, that is so sweet! Thank you so much for being such a great fan, the dedication you have is so uplifting and comments like yours truly inspire me. My creativeness comes from your love." She blew a kiss at the camera, then decided to go for the comment right underneath it. “Alright, this one’s from Julia Muñoz: I just tried the whipped coffee with the instructions from the video and it works! It tastes so good! Thanks for that hack.” The fact that people were actually trying the things she showed them at home was making her happier than ever. “Julia, I am so happy you tried it and even happier you liked it. I didn’t say this is the video, but here’s a super secret tip from me: Sprinkle some sweetened cocoa powder on it, it gives the coffee an extra kick.”

Ángel, fully immersed in keeping the camera steady and focused, smiled at what she said. He’d once told her he stuck around because she was a great advice-giver and a handywoman. She’d replied that he only said that because he wanted her to fix his broken bookshelf. “Onto the next one.” Raquel said, once again fully focused. It was what her fans deserved.

“Natalie Serquel with an exclamation mark behind it-“ She laughed a bit too enthusiastically, covering up the recognition of a tenacious so called “shipname” her community had for a guy she- enough of that. Her thoughts were wandering in a direction she really didn’t want to go. She caught herself, her hand shooting up to glide through her hair, setting a strand back to where it belonged. “Natalie says: Thank you for the subtitles, I’m trying to learn Spanish but it’s hard, so I really appreciate the effort you put into translating to English. Love your videos!” She grinned at the camera. “ _I_ love _you_. But actually, the mastermind behind the subtitles is mostly my dear friend and reliable cameraman Ángel though! Hi Ángel!” She waved at the man behind the camera and laughed when he awkwardly waved back. “Say something, they can’t see you dummie!” A shy “Hello.” came from him and she giggled even more. “So a big thank you to him for putting the real quality into my videos and translating everything. You’re my guy.” He flashed her a grin and murmured “Your videos are amazing without my work anyway.” She knew she’d definitely subtitle that later in editing.

She was about to scroll down some more to find unpopular comments when a white hook of a verified account caught her eye. Not even having read the name, she excitedly exclaimed: “Oh! Next up we have someone famous commenting on my video! Wonder who that might be.” She looked up to the camera, a secretive smile on her face, then looked back down on her phone. “Se-“ But she didn’t get any further. The smile on her lips turned into a thin line, her facial expression fell. She didn’t really trust her voice when she addressed her friend. “Ángel, could you stop recording please? We’ll cut it together later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sergio is cheeky, Raquel is a mess and Ángel is still soft af please give him some love.

Raquel was sitting in her favorite rocker in her living room, phone on her thigh, the comment section still pulled up. No matter how many times she stared at the letters in front of her, they didn’t change. She went through them again, for what must have been the 17th time.

_Great video there Raquel, I especially like the little jab at 13:41 clearly directed at me. You know, you did use to love “boring hikes through undergrowth and knowing what kind of bird is making what noise”. And what came after it ;)_

She hated it. Everything about it. The way he had actually put so much effort in quoting her every word, even including a timestamp. The suggestive tone in that last part. The damn _smiley_. Who even used these when emojis existed? Truth be told, she had intentionally used that exact wording to fuel something both of them knew helped the rise of their subscription numbers, but she hated what she had triggered. Because now she had to answer, reply to this outrageous comment of his. And her problem was: She didn’t know how, and that made her hate it even more. She felt something she rarely ever felt. Insecure. Cornered.

“He should just leave it be, really. I mean, you haven’t really seen each other since-“ Since they’d broken up almost 2 years ago, was what Ángel had been about to say. She sent him a smile for not saying it out loud. It hadn’t been a pleasant break up (when were they ever?) and she liked to keep the feelings that came with remembering hidden in a far back corner of her mind. She threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture, because they had been talking back and forth about how he shouldn’t have commented and why he did it for twenty minutes. “I can’t change it now.” She sighed. She’d entertained the idea of just deleting the comment in question and be done with it, but had tossed that when Ángel’s smart argument had been “You have about 800k followers Raquel and most of them love what you have going on with Marquina, (at that, he’d received a sour look from her) they’re not going to just forget about this. There are probably like a hundred screenshots of this already.” Long story short, there was no way out of this dilemma other than a smart reply back for which she neither had the nerve nor the right words.

Ángel only hummed thoughtfully, lifted his shoulders in a helpless gesture and went into a broody, meditative silence. Raquel knew he was thinking hard about how to fix this with as little attention as possible, and as much as she appreciated him throwing himself into this so wholeheartedly, she knew he would come up empty handed. For a lack of anything better to do, she scrolled through the replies of Sergio’s comment. It was worse than she’d initially thought. The comments ranged from “SERQUEL FOREVER!” and “OTP” to “SERQUEL ARE DATING AGAIN CONFIRMED MY LIFE IS GOOD” and “THEY KINKY I STAN”, all in caps, all as infuriating as exhausting. She didn’t even want to imagine how her Twitter notifications looked like.

The worst thing about this by far though, and she knew this with a painful certainty, would be the countless texts from her best friend Ágata with inquiries about what the hell was going on. It didn’t help that she had her own YouTube channel, “Nairobistyle”, probably already knew all about the comment situation and was only giving her time to reply before she spammed her with shocked, all caps messages. It was also completely possible that her mom, however she managed to, would find out about this. Then Raquel would have to move to another continent as fast as manageable, because her mom _loved_ Sergio from the bottom of her heart and hadn’t accepted the end of their relationship. To this day, at every possible chance she could get, she asked about the wellbeing of her future son in law. To this day, Raquel still tried (and sorrowfully failed) to convince her dear mother that he had never been and will never be her future son in law. It was pointless.

While Raquel was already making plans of moving to Australia (because that was the farthest away continent she could think of), the doorbell rang and cruelly ripped her out of her pleasantly unproductive thoughts. Confused, she stared at the time glowing in fat white letters on her phone screen while trying to remember who had told her they would drop by at 4 pm today. The doorbell rang a second time, and Ángel must have heard it too because as she finally shook herself back to reality and got out of the rocking chair, he was already at the door. She knew who it was before she heard the loud, excited squeal echo through the hallway of her house. How could she have possibly forgotten?

“Mama!” and not even a second after that deafening scream, a bundle of 1,08 m and brown hair came rushing into the living room like a tiny tornado and hauled itself into Raquel’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, the next chapter is gonna be a little longer. And it'll melt you, trust me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you get very cute Paula scenes and some more information about Sergio :)

“Paulita.” Raquel scooped the little girl up in her arms, sighing her name against her hair and gently kissing her forehead. For a few seconds she just stood there, holding her in her arms, her little legs wrapped around her waist and small noises of contentment at being cuddled leaving her mouth. Her daughter. The light of her life, the one that could momentarily make her forget about any trouble or worry as long as she was cradled in her arms.

“I’m sorry honey, I know I was supposed to bring her back about an hour ago, but we were at the zoo and Paula loved the elephants so much.” Her mother came shuffling into the room, an exhausted but happy smile making the crinkles on her face appear and seem like the picture perfect grandma. As if to confirm that statement, Paula broke out of the embrace to look her mom into the eyes. “Mommy they were _so big_!” She stretched out her arms as much as she could, eyes wide with a fascination and wonder only children could experience. Raquel couldn’t help but chuckle at her daughter’s amazement. “Yes, and we even fed them, didn’t we?” Raquel’s mother had sat down on the couch, where Ángel, being the angel he was, had promptly offered her a glass of water. Excitedly, Paula nodded. “Yes! So much stuff mommy did you know elephants eat carrots?” Raquel made a surprised face. “Really? How about…” She grinned at Paula and spun them both around. “You eat some carrots? You want a snack?” The girl nodded excitedly and set out to run into the kitchen as Raquel set her down. Then she stopped and turned around, a big grin on her face. “Mommy look, I’m a elephant!” She stomped on the ground as hard as she could and continued her way to the kitchen, only turning her head to yell “You have to feed me!” back over her shoulder. Raquel laughed and followed her suit. She truly was the light in her life.

After having fed Paula like she was an elephant (with Paula’s strict directions and her forming an elephant trunk with her arms), Raquel and her returned to the couch, where her daughter found “tickle Ángel” to be the best game in the world. While he was distracting the little ball of energy, Mariví Fuentes, for the first time that day, had time to study her daughter’s face. “What is wrong, honey?” Raquel, who had been watching Paula and Ángel play with a serene happiness on her face, turned to her. The expression on her face changed. “Nothing, mom. It’s nothing.” But Mariví knew there was _something_. “No, it’s never nothing when you have that look on your face sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.” Raquel shook her head. “Not in front of Paula, mum. Please.” That got Marivís full attention. If it was something that couldn’t be discussed in front of Paula, it had to be either of two things, or rather people, and one of them made her feel disgusted to the bones, the other one so happy she couldn’t afford to be wrong about it. A mother’s intuition was a strong thing though, and not even Raquel could do anything about her schooled expression when her mom, in a hushed tone, said: “Is it Sergio?” For the second time in about three minutes, Raquel’s face changed. “Mom!” She snapped, but too late.

Paula had abruptly stopped mid-tackle, sitting upright in Ángel’s lap. “Daddy?” The hopeful look and pleading expression on the little one’s face almost broke Raquel’s heart. She was seething inside because her mother had _dared_ to say that name with Paula in the room.

Sergio and Paula had been…inseparable, from the first moment on. There had been a tie between them that Raquel had never quite figured out, but they had truly been father and daughter, in all sense of ways. Her first word had been “Daddy”, said to no other than Sergio. Neither her nor her boyfriend had had the heart to ever tell her he wasn’t her real dad. When they had separated it had been hard on Raquel, but even harder on her then four-year old. In the first six months after their breakup she had constantly asked for him, when he would be back, what he was doing, where he was. Raquel had fumbled with stories about him being away for work, traveling a lot, meeting friends. That had only worked for so long. When she had finally mustered up the courage to tell her that her dad, her own personal hero she glorified beyond anything, would never return, her poor angel had cried for days, refusing to eat, play or even visit the horses outside town she loved to go to. It had broken Raquel’s heart as much as the breakup itself.

Instead of saying anything at all to her mother, she got up, picked up her daughter and cradled her head much like she had just half an hour ago. “Oh Baby.” She whispered, for a moment everything seemed just a little bit too much. “How about we go upstairs and I make you a nice bath?” Paula, not completely convinced and unwilling to let the name she had heard uttered a few seconds ago slip, looked at her with wide eyes. “Can you put the pink bubbles in?” Raquel nodded and chuckled to conceal the tears that were close to spilling out. “Sure baby, of course we can! Of course…” In the anonymity of the hallway, Paula’s face buried in her neck, she allowed one single tear roll down her face. That was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right now these chapters are still very short because I'm trying to end them in a way that doesn't take up too much of the story and go on forever. Bear with me while I try to find the right pace for this fic, I promise the chapters will get longer ;) Also I've figured out an update plan, new chapters will appear Mondays and Thursdays.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions rise, a fight ensues and at the end of it, Raquel makes a decision.

About an hour later, with Paula safely tucked into bed and softly snoring away, Raquel descended the stairs to the living room.

Her stomach churned at the thought of what she would have to endure. She didn’t want to tell her mother. Which was odd in itself, because Raquel and her mom had always been close. There had rarely been a secret she’d kept from her or a problem she hadn’t told her about. Her mother had always been there, with helpful advice and comforting hugs to give. However, this was different. Raquel knew it was. Mariví knew it was. The breakup had been the only instance, ever in the history of Raquels-love-life-instances in which Mariví hadn’t sided with her daughter. How could she have, if the man on the other side had been nothing but a gentleman, sweet and nice to her and her daughter. For all Mariví knew and cared to know, Sergio Marquina was one of the nowadays rare-to-come-by men who still valued chivalry and love in its purest form. And for him to come into her life after what had happened with Alberto…to say her mother thought Sergio a saint was broadly understated.

For these and many other reasons, she was anxious as she entered the living room, only to find the wide room dark and vacated. That could only mean one thing. And sure enough – as she stepped into the kitchen, she found her mother sitting on one of the bar stools sipping on a glass of red wine, one of the finest she owned of course.

Mariví was many things, and a wine connoisseur was definitely among that list. Unlike the other times she would come by and have a lazy wine evening with her daughter though, the atmosphere seemed cold, suffocating. Ángel had taken up the stool next to her and he too was nursing on a shiny glass of the same, rather expensive wine. The scene looked so out of place; Raquel could’ve laughed out loud if it hadn’t been so serious. “I don’t appreciate you killing my wine resources without me. I take it he filled you in?” Raquel’s voice came out a lot more detached than she would’ve liked, the words sounding strange and alien echoing back to her in the big kitchen. Her mother nodded. “You know what I think.”

“Mom it isn’t that easy!” But she could’ve spoken to a wall instead.

“What isn’t? That he wants to talk to you again? See you again? That he maybe never wanted to break up in the first place?” That was enough. About a year ago, when this had all started, the seed of blame had been laid by her mother. For all the love and understanding for her daughter that lived within Mariví, she would never understand why Raquel had chosen to walk away from their relationship.

“He never even said that! We _decided_ on it, together! We looked at our lives, at our careers, and decided that it would be best for both of us to stop. Why can’t you understand that it wasn’t only me? We made that decision, we both did.” She’d raised her voice and by the end of her little speech, she was surprised by how loud she’d gotten. Her daughter was sleeping upstairs, for goodness sake! Raquel took a deep breath and stepped closer to her mother.

But Mariví wasn’t finished either. “Was it not you who asked for it? Was it not you who started the whole thing by questioning your lives together?” She spoke silently, steady. After the outbreak Raquel had just had, it felt like the calm after a shattering storm. “Was it not you who put these silly videos above something real and good?”

Raquel gaped at her mother. She felt tears threatening to come up once again and a while tsunami of feelings wheeling inside her. Only shaking slightly, she raised her index finger in the general direction of the door. “Go, mom.” It sounded icy, distant. Surreal. But her mom got up, without another word. “I’ll drive you home.” Ángel, shooting a stare at Raquel that she didn’t know how to read, offered his arm to the older woman, who took it with a thankful look. Raquel watched in a time lapse as they made their way to the door, transfixed, unable to say a thing. The handle in her hand, Mariví turned one last time.

“I just want what’s best for you, my dearest daughter. I always have.” The door made a heavy noise as it clicked shut behind them, leaving Raquel alone in the white, big kitchen and two glasses of contrasting red wine.

Later that night she lay tucked into her softest blanket on her bed, trying to bite back tears of…what? Sadness? Loneliness? Exhaustion? She didn’t know, had no energy to think or speak or even cry. Her phone was in her hands, glowing brightly, so bright it was starting to hurt her eyes. Though she didn’t know if it was due to the brightness or tears. She felt more comfortable with assuming the first. Her thumbs hovered over her keyboard. Hesitation. Always hesitation, from the first decision on that she’d made about him, about them, long ago. With a deep breath and a mental state she’d later describe as _completely unstable_ she started typing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you especially to Natalie and Céline for supporting me, always reading my stuff and helping me with forming this fic into something I'm not sure I could handle alone.   
> I know this is a short chapter again and I hope that I can draw out the chapters now, but again, have patience with me while I figure things out :) hope everyone is still doing okay in quarantine!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just need excuses to write cute Paula scenes and I'm not even sorry. Also this is finally a long chapter!

_You could’ve just told me that you’re missing me, Smartpants. Would’ve been a lot less work and more fun. For you, of course. And stop being so self-centered all the time, that didn’t work back then and won’t work now. I didn’t mean you._

After she’d mulled over the wording a thousand times, half of them in her head, half of them in written form, she seemed to be ready to tap on send. Raquel had decided that a nonchalant, humorous tone would be best, not only because it would make the fans assume less (hopefully), but also because it hid every emotion of hers that had come up in the comments’ wake. Sergio’s little answer to her video had stirred up things that Raquel had hoped to be buried so deep inside she’d never find them again, even if she wanted to. Of course she’d been wrong. And of course it had ended in a fight with her mom and her poor daughter getting her hopes up for nothing.

She sighed, exhausted beyond what should have been possible and so tired she couldn’t even keep her eyes open anymore. Perhaps when she woke up the next morning it would all be gone. A bad dream, a nightmare, fleeting memories that her subconscious had dug up again. That must be it, she thought as she slowly drifted into a sleep filled with dreams about laughter and smiles and a bespectacled man with messy hair.

The first rays of sunshine tickled Raquel’s face and for once, she awoke in a great mood and with a new concept for a video in her mind. She looked at the bedstand and the small digital clock on it. 7:21. She smiled. Her inner clock never let her down. She let the birds outside sing the last of her sleep away, got up and used a pen on her desk to put her hair into a firm knot when she couldn’t find a hairband anywhere close. Damn these things, she seemed to buy and lose millions of them every year.

Still in her sleep shirt, Raquel padded down the hallway and slowly opened her daughter’s room. A big smile manifested on her face as she watched the little girl sleep peacefully in her small princess bed, her chest going up and down with every breath she took. She looked like an angel, Raquel mused and felt the love for her child run through her like electric shocks. Sometimes, the fact that she had brought this amazing small human into life and it was indeed her very own still took her breath away and made her chest swell with pride and awe. She silently stepped into the room, crouched down next to the bed and put her hand on Paula’s forehead. “Hey sleepyhead, good morning.” When Paula stirred in her slumber, Raquel nuzzled her cheek. “Wake up, sweetie.” Big, brown puppy eyes blinked open and closed. A few more soft words whispered to her and the girl was stretching and yawning, slowly but surely getting out of whatever pleasant dream world she’d so cruelly been ripped out of. Paula had always been a deep and long sleeper, ever since she was a baby. Which only served to manifest her mother’s joking theory about her being an angel over the years.

“Come on Paula, get dressed so we can have breakfast.” She got up and went to the light pink closet matching the bed’s color, that was located on the other side of the fairly big room. And like on cue Raquel heard the tap-tap of little feet waddling over the floor to the closet. Despite the angel she was, there was one thing Paula hated in this particular stage of growing up: Her mom picking her clothes. Paula tugged at her shirt and Raquel smiled triumphantly. “Mommy no!” The little one interrupted when Raquel was reaching for a jeans-overall she knew hadn’t been on her daughter’s list of favorites for some time. She looked down. “I want the blue dress.”

“The one with the horses?” But Paula shook her head, her messy, light brown hair flying with the movement. “With the flowers!”

About fifteen minutes later, Paula sat at the glass dining table, dressed in a cute blue dress with summer flowers printed on it and a ruffled skirt. Her hair had been combed and braided to the side in a practiced fishtail braid. Watching a kid’s show on her toddler tablet she munched on her toast and egg, careful not to spill anything. Raquel, now fully dressed herself, came back down the stairs just in time to prevent such a thing from happening.

After having casually finished breakfast, cuddled a bit and then searched for Paula’s shoes for another five minutes (she swore Ángel had hidden them the night before), they were both ready to go.

Paula’s preschool was, thanks to Raquel’s rather well-paid work and a large fanbase, a big building with some of the best teachers and caretakers Madrid had to offer. They offered breakfast here as well, but Raquel liked to spend the mornings with her daughter, making toast, cuddling and playing before dropping her off. She accompanied Paula to her classroom, where Miss Castillo was already awaiting her with a genuine smile and a happy “Good morning Paula!”

The day had started off pretty darn good, and as she was leaving the preschool, she ran into the mother of one of Paula’s closest friends, Antonio. They had a long talk about this and that, gossiped a bit about the other moms and in the end agreed to meet soon at her place for coffee and a play date for their children. For about four hours into this sunny spring day, Raquel’s world was good.

Until she finally had the time to check her phone over her first cup of coffee that morning. Outside, the cloudless sky was shining bright blue, but inside Raquel suddenly couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun anymore.

Three missed calls from Ágata, about thirteen missed messages from the same person and – the thing she dreaded the most – another answer on her video from no one else but Sergio Marquina. She couldn’t bear to look at it alone.

“This is a disaster!” Ágata’s voice rang through the phone, shrill and distorted and a great deal of typical excitement about the drama swinging with it, a sentiment that Raquel couldn’t share. “Yeah well, it’s not my fault.” “Oh stop sulking.” Came the prompt reply. That’s why she was her best friend, Raquel reminded herself with a small smile. Because that woman with a crazily good sense for fashion and an unhealthy obsession with nail polish happened to be able to interpret Raquel’s every mood, in every possible situation. And even if she never really had any helpful advice, she would always be there to listen and after that scream with her about every problem the slightly older woman had. When it came to advice between the two of them, the roles were reversed.

Raquel was exhausted. Her good mood had vanished, and she was sitting in her rocking chair, the third glass of wine in her hands. She’d exchanged the coffee for wine after about twenty minutes into her still ongoing phone call with her best friend, and Ágata still didn’t know the thing that would set her off the most - Raquel still hadn’t read the reply from Sergio the woman on the other line had been ranting about for the past five minutes.

“I can’t believe he actually just _said_ that. Well not said, typed, but still. Raquel, whatever you do, don’t even think about accepting. I’m your best friend and I demand with my best friend powers you stay away from that. He’s hurt you enough.” Raquel took another sip of wine, still not ready to admit she had no clue what Ágata was even talking about. Then: “He’s never hurt me, you know that. It was me.” A sigh rushed through the phone and Raquel could practically see her roll her eyes. “Your mother talked about it to you again, am I right?” There was no need to answer, Ágata understood the silence perfectly well. She’d always been good at that, reading people, everything they said or didn’t say.

“Jesus, Raquel. It’s not just your fault and you have to stop blaming yourself once and for all. You two decided together, that’s what you always say, right?” “Right.” Raquel answered, and it came out more uncertain than she’d intended.

“I swear if you don’t stop sulking I _will_ come over and punch some sense into you.” That did make Raquel snort. “Good. Now, what are we going to do about his comment? Basically, there’s only two options. Option one: You agree. You tell him so in a reply. Option two: You decline. You tell him so in a reply. And since I’ve already ruled out option one for you, you’ll have to go with two. Just-“ And Raquel thought, no _knew_ , it was then that her friend started figuring it out. Ágata Jiménz was one of the smartest women Raquel knew. Of course she’d figure it out. The line on the other side went silent for a good thirty seconds, before a very cautious, very strained voice asked: “You haven’t even read his latest reply, have you?”

Raquel took a rather big gulp of wine before she answered. “No.”

Another sigh made its way through the phone, distorted but no less exhausted sounding than Raquel felt. “I should’ve known. Listen, I know you want to just forget about this but it’s my job to tell you that you can’t. It’s already out there and jeez you should see Twitter, it’s-“ Ágata stopped herself, let me imagine the rest. “I’m gonna hang up. Read it. And then choose option two, don’t get affiliated with him, don’t do anything, don’t say more than you need to say to decline. You’ve been down this rabbit hole before, and I don’t want to see the most important person in my life like _that_ ever again.” And with that, she hung up on Raquel. She had never been one to beat around the bush, Raquel thought almost humorously (or, as humorous as one could be in her situation) as she emptied her glass and pulled up the notification center on her iPhone. There it was, in white, shiny letters.

_Sergio Marquina replied: –_

She didn’t dare to read further. Why was this such an issue? Why was it so hard for her to just stay away? From him, his drama, his good boy smile and the thick rimmed glasses and the irresistible way he was just so perfectly, innocently _him_. Why did it feel like she had never really stopped loving him that way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update is so late, I was very caught up in schoolwork today oof :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raquel is torn between two hard decisions and remembers better times. Just when she thinks she's made her decision, an unexpected comment changes things.

_Now where would’ve been the fun in that, darling? How about a deal: We collaborate on both our accounts and I’ll leave you alone after that. Sounds good? Look at how un-self-centered I’m being, are you proud?_

His charm. It had always been the most attractive thing about him, and the most successful part of the trap that was this man. She had fallen for him once. She had wanted to end it. For his and her career, for the sake of both of them. That was what she had convinced herself of, at least. Now though, she was cursing his charm. It sounded so easy, so gentleman-like, so _him_. Raquel stood up, poured herself another glass of wine, sat down in her rocker and allowed herself something she would always strictly prohibit. For her own sake.

She closed her eyes and opened those boxes she’d long ago pushed into the farthest corner of her mind. Laughter, happiness, carelessness. There was a picnic blanket, out on the wide lawn in front of the horse stable. The sun, filtered though a few trees, painted beautiful, warm patterns on the grass in front of them. The air smelled of freshly baked cinnamon roles and apple juice. A few birds sang a sweet melody from up in the trees and above all, laughter echoed through the scenery. Paula, about two years old, on Sergio’s shoulders. She wouldn’t stop laughing and screeching and he spun around again and again, making silly sounds of faked dizziness. Eventually he halted, turned to Raquel still sitting on the blanket. And the look he had given her – although she had stored this and many other events like it safely away in a far back corner of her mind, Raquel would never forget Sergio’s look that day. It had struck her soul, stunning and powerful like lightning meeting the ground in the middle of a gigantic storm. This was home. This was love.

Raquel willed herself out of these memories. It didn’t do any good to linger in these moments, especially not after reading his most recent reply. It would make her do stupid things. Bad things. Things that even Ágata said she shouldn’t do. And if Ágata, who was always up for stupid plans, said she shouldn’t, then there was no other choice. And yet her heart called for something else.

Looking at the other comments, this wasn’t her only problem though. “OMG OMG now she has to do it!” “SERQUEL FOREVER” “my parents are back together I stan,,” “listen if they really collab y’all can dig my grave : ))) “ And those were the less obtrusive ones. On a whim, Raquel opened Twitter – and promptly paid the prize as her phone started lagging uncontrollably with the thousands of notifications she had received in the past hours. This was a disaster, a full on catastrophe.

Ágate, who had told her to stay out of it. Her heart, that really didn’t want to partake in that plan, no matter how much her brain tried to rule over it. Her followers, who would leave her one by one if she didn’t actually do it. Raquel wasn’t naïve. Stupid, maybe, but not naïve. She’d built up her follower base because she created good content, she knew that. But she also knew that the majority of those followers were in it for them – Raquel and Sergio, the rivals, the ex lovers. There had always been a “them”, and it would always be there, no matter what she said or did. Which brought her back to the most pressing problem: She simply couldn’t refuse to collaborate with Sergio Marquina, and this smartass of a man had known all along. It had been a trap, honeyed with the sweet use of their old nickname and the charming offer of a bold man who would stand his ground no matter what. If Raquel hadn’t known better, she’d have said he had planned this all along, with the first comment he’d put under her video. Smartpants.

First things first though, her fans had to be satisfied. To an extent, at least. Raquel, not even thinking about what her best friend had said just a few minutes ago, opened Twitter and waited for the lag to stop. Then, she tapped the blue button on her screen and started typing.

_Who of you has been following a special exchange on YouTube? I can neither confirm nor deny anything, but be on the lookout_ _😉_

It wasn’t a lie, per se. They could be on the lookout, for whatever this exchange would bring up in the future. If she did deny, that would still be part of the exchange. Mere milliseconds after sending the tweet, her phone buzzed and lagged uncontrollably with the new income of retweets, likes, quotes and replies and this time she didn’t even put the effort in to read any of it. Most would be wild speculations or outcries of joy and happiness anyway, and she could deal with this as little as she could with this whole situation right now.

What she needed was to get her mind off things. Immediately.

Raquel got up, left the glass on the kitchen counter (the good wine! Her mother would freak out.) and texted Ángel: _Get over here, now. Bring raspberries, blueberries, bananas, mangos and kiwis. We’re filming a new video._

Half an hour later (Ángel lived in another part of Madrid and the traffic was bad in Madrid around that time, Raquel briefly wondered if he had suddenly acquired superpowers and flown to her place), her savior stood in her doorframe, two large paper bags filled with various fruits in his hands and a face of absolute bewilderment on his face, asking her without actually speaking. _What weird stuff is it this time, Murillo?_

And because Ángel was Ángel, he blessedly didn’t say a word about the situation. Of course he knew, again, Raquel wasn’t naïve and she certainly wasn’t dumb enough to think he hadn’t refreshed the comment section on his phone every hour or so to follow the news. He just respected privacy and knew Raquel so well that he trusted her to tell him if she really needed to talk. And that was just another thing on the list of why he was such a good friend. A lifetime ago and pretty intoxicated, Raquel and Sergio had jokingly declared him the godfather of their non-existent, very hypothetical child. He had agreed in an instant.

Half an hour came and went, they figured out the details of the concept, talked it through, started preparing. So immersed in work, Raquel finally started feeling why exactly she was doing this whole YouTube thing again. It gave her so much. She had a place for her creativity and hobbies, she could share everything with people and she was lucky enough to have these people as fans, followers who watched her content because they truly enjoyed her, her personality and her ideas.

When everything was set up, the light was in place and she’d decided on what clothes and make up to wear, they began filming. “13 Delicious Smoothies for Warm Spring Days!” (It had originally only been ten, but Ángel had brought so many variants of fruits they made up three more combinations on the spot)

Smiling across her entire face, Raquel stood in the middle of her very untidy kitchen, a splash of strawberry-raspberry-banana smoothie on her waist, and laughed at her filming partner who had just tried (and wholeheartedly failed) to wipe it away. Instead, he had smeared it deeper into the fabric. The “Oh mother of Jesus I’m so so sorry Raquel”, all mumbled under his breath, just made her laugh even more. She couldn’t remember a time in the past few days when she’d been so relaxed.

Suddenly though, the playful look on her friend’s face faded. She could feel her giddiness subsiding and mentally prepared for the bomb to hit. “Hey Raquel, I know you don’t wanna talk about it-“

But she cut him off. There it was.

“You’re right, I don’t. And if you’re about to tell me that I shouldn’t accept, don’t bother. Ágata’s-”

_He_ cut _her_ off this time, his serene gaze focused on her.

“You have to do it. You have to accept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so late and I'm sorry I only posted this now, school's got me in a painfully strong grip these days :// Hope you liked this chapter though. What's up with Ángel? Could he be playing matchmaker for our favorite couple?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which something unexpected happens that brings back pain.

Like struck by a particularly big and loud lightning bolt, Raquel looked up at him. “I have to – what?”

What did he even mean? He’d been against this from the very start, always on her side, hell he’d been the one to say she shouldn’t ever even contact him again. She couldn’t wrap her head around that sudden change of opinions, especially this one and especially from him.

She looked for any sign of nervousness or insecurity as he opened his mouth to speak, but she couldn’t find a thing.

“You know how beneficial this…thing between you is for your account. I’ve been checking Twitter the entire day, your whole fanbase has only one topic: This challenge Sergio proposed. And your tweet really didn’t help.”

At that, Raquel blushed furiously and tried to hide it by once again focusing on the stain of smoothie on her kitchen counter. If Ángel had noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“I’m being serious here, Raquel. You can’t _not accept._ It would hurt your business. The thousands of followers you have just because of your…relationship with him. It wouldn’t work, they would all leave. Or at least the majority.”

That struck her as very fucking unfair – her career shouldn’t be dependent on a man. “Gee thanks Ángel, why don’t you run along, the Women’s March would love to have you as a speaker I’m sure.”

She knew she was overreacting, at least towards him. Yet, she was mad. Mad that her friend was right, that she would have to go behind Ágata’s back, that Sergio had yet again managed to sneak his way into her life.

Ángel was steadfast and stoic though, and he wasn’t about to let it go just because this minor offense. She was his friend after all, a friend who needed help in making a decision that could change her career and her entire life for the better.

“We’re not talking about me here, Raquel. You have to say yes, there’s no other way. Also, and I’m not stating this as the main argument, spending a little time with him will do you good. You’ve always been more relaxed with him around.”

Raquel was questioning his sanity. And not in the usual he’s-probably-up-to-some-type-A-Ángel-shit-way. When had he changed his mind from “He wasn’t the one for you anyway” to _this_? The world was upside down, the people around her belonged in a psychiatric ward and she, Raquel Murillo, was the only sane person in this mess. That must be it, she thought as she was getting ready to fight every single word that had just left the man’s mouth.

Before she could do exactly that, an alarm on her phone went off. Running an agitated hand through her hair, she sighed. “Could you please tidy up a bit before you go? I have to get Paula now and I’ll have to make dinner for us, I don’t have the time to clean up.” It must’ve come out much more tired than she had wanted it to, because Ángel’s look changed from frustrated to soft and he nodded. “Of course. If you need any help at all just call, please.” Their argument already forgotten, she leaned over, pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek and then rushed off to grab her keys.

The preschool with integrated daycare was still pretty full. Because it had an all-day offer, some business-driven parents let their kids stay till five in the evening. That had always seemed to long of a time span for Raquel, and whenever she couldn’t make it because of galas, events or conventions, she had her mom or Ángel pick her little angel up at three latest.

As she walked through the hallway, she almost bumped into several toddlers who were apparently playing tag. Raquel smiled. Her daughter would probably be deeply immersed in some game with one of her best friends, presumably with Antonio, who got picked up around the same time as she did.

She decided to try Miss Castillo’s afternoon room, Paula idolized her preschool teacher and often hung around her. And if she didn’t, Miss Castillo would definitely know where to find her. That woman, Raquel thought as she rounded the corner to the room, was a blessing from heaven. The way she worked with the children, taught them and was there for them was honestly impressive, and she’d always admired the young teacher for that.

As Raquel stepped into the room though, the happy feeling fell off her like big, heavy stones. Miss Castillo sat in on her desk, her arms crossed and her look stern. Facing her sat a little boy with deep brown, curly hair – Antonio. And next to him, tear streaked cheeks red from agitation and crying, sat her own daughter.

The sound of Raquel’s heels had made all three of them look up. Paula looked like she wanted to say something but was too afraid to. Miss Castillo spoke up after a brief, shocked-filled pause.

“Miss Murillo. I would have called, but I knew you were coming to pick her up soon, so I just waited. There has been a – falling out between your daughter and Antonio here. Before we talk about it, I want to wait for his mom first because I think this is best solved with both of you present.” Now addressing the two children in front of her, her voice got softer, even if her eyes still focused on them sternly. “You two run off now, we’ll be out in a few minutes okay? I expect you two to behave.” Two solemn nods from two shocked children who both looked a little out of it were her answer. “Good. Now go.”

They followed the order, but before she was out of the door Paula turned to Raquel. She still looked like she wanted to say something. She didn’t though, only sent an apprehensive, almost scared look into her mom’s direction before leaving the room.

Raquel thought she would faint right then and there. As if she didn’t have enough problems already. And Paula looked positively ready to cry for the entire rest of the night. Whatever their “falling out” had been about, something must have hit her deeply.

Ten minutes that felt like ten hours tops went by like she had just spent this time in purgatory. Fifteen minutes. Raquel felt like she was about to have a stroke from staring at the clock above the door so intently. Then, they both hurt clicking heels coming closer and closer.

The door was opened and the same woman who had greeted Raquel so sweetly this morning walked into the room. Upon seeing the two serious, stony faces, she stopped in her flowing movements. “Um, is everything okay? I just wanted to pick Antonio up.” Miss Castillo got up from her chair, at last. “Miss Alvarez. Please sit down for a moment, there’s something we need to talk about concerning your son and his friend Paula.” There was no emotion in her voice, just the clear, sweetly ringing tone she usually had. Raquel had always liked that about the woman, but in this moment, it deeply bothered her.

The way Miss Castillo cleared her throat was the only sign of slight uneasiness she let on. “Apparently, Paula hit Antonio pretty hard in the head after he had provoked her. I’ve already talked about the both of them with this, but Miss Murillo, it would be great if you could make it clear to her that hitting people is not okay and isn’t taken lightly here.” Raquel just – couldn’t say anything. She just sat there, looked the friendly preschool teacher in the eyes and tried to process what she’d just heard. Her Paula – her angel – she had _hit_ another child. Her friend.

It took a few seconds for Raquel to gather herself. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Maria.” She said, turning to Miss Alvarez, who looked at her, but not unkindly. “It’s okay, all children do that. And they have to learn the consequences.” She said, almost smiling. She didn’t seem half as shocked as Raquel evidently was. She turned to the teacher. “Paula normally _knows_ that hitting someone is a no-go, she’s never done that before. I will talk to her, and again, I’m sorry. But…I know my daughter. She wouldn’t do it without someone giving her a really good reason. And I saw her, she was pretty shaken up.”

At that, the teacher cleared her throat again.

“I was getting to that. Miss Alvarez, I would recommend you talk less about the family relationships of other people in your son’s presence. It seems he’s…picked up a thing or two about the unfortunate situation of Paula…not having a father. He made comments to her about it, that’s what set her off.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her poor little angel.

Raquel had left Paula’s biological father as soon as she was able to walk out of the hospital after her birth. He had abused, mistreated and strategically blamed her for his behavior for years and years on end, and holding the little, fragile life in her arms for the first time had given Raquel the wake-up call she’d needed. It wasn’t something she spoke or even thought about usually, she just didn’t want to be confronted with this dark, painful part of her life. She’d done therapy, gotten over it, found – Sergio. Her daughter’s dad, her mother’s hero, her love. He had been Paula’s dad from the start, and when they’d split – it had been horrible for little Paula. It had hurt her as much as it had hurt her daughter. To know she hit little Antonio for that.

It broke her heart, once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want this to be the main and most prominent part of the chapter, but as I was writing it I felt like it should be. This is a vital part of understanding just what exactly Sergio meant for Raquel and Paula, and you get some more background info. Yes, Alberto exists in this universe, because I think he's a horrible but important part to Raquel's story and explains who she is. The next part is gonna focus mostly on Serquel, I promise!   
> \- Leonie


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raquel deals with the aftermath of the preschool incident and makes a decision.

Even though Paula was way too old to be carried around, and Raquel had fought hard for her daughter to believe that, she carried her poor angel out of the preschool to her car, the pink unicorn backpack slung around her shoulders.

She was going to talk to her about hitting people, she was. Just, not right now. There were other things she had to talk about with her when they got home, and she dreaded every single word of them.

Raquel strapped her into her seat in silence, still mentally paralyzed by what she’d heard, too shocked to realize the state of mind her daughter was in was even worse. When she started the car, Paula’s thin voice piped up from the back: “Are you mad at me, mommy?”

The little one seemed more concerned and scared then ever and it made her heart clench. She had to say something, she knew. “No, sweetie, I’m not mad, I’m just a little bit disappointed. You know that we don’t hit someone, that’s not what good children do, is it?” In the rearview mirror, she saw the dark brown locks on Paula’s head weave around her as she shook her head no. Raquel thought that now she had something to mull over before they got home, before she would have to say what she most feared saying. But she was wrong.

“But mommy I didn’t do it just because. Tonio said I didn’t have-“ The last words were swallowed by a big sob, and in the mirror Raquel could see a new set of tears streaming down her daughter’s cheeks. She slammed in the breaks more forceful than necessary and the car’s tires squeaked as they came to a halt right in front of the suddenly red traffic light.

If only, this made Paula cry even more. Raquel was more than sure what her last words had been and she didn’t know how to _fix_ it and it made her feel even more helpless than before. The second the light turned green, she sped past the junction and took the fastest way possible, all while her little angel was sobbing and crying in the back. It hurt to see her like this. Normally, nothing and no one could snap Paula out of it like this. Looking back on this messed up turn and overlap of events, Raquel would later be sure that this had been the point where she had decided. Completely, officially, without any further inquiries and questions. She had made the choice right then and there.

She parked the car in the driveway in front of her house, took a steadying breath and got out. Paula’s crying had subsided to soft sniffling, but she knew it was only a matter of time until the crying came back. She would have to talk to her.

The house was empty when they got inside, but in the kitchen she found a brown paper bag that contained vegetables, yoghurt, bread, butter, noodles and a few bottles of Paula’s favorite apple juice. Next to it was a note:

_I went ahead and got groceries for you so you wouldn’t have to go get them yourself. Have a nice evening with your daughter, tell her I said hi_

_Ángel_

Raquel smiled slightly. She wasn’t religious, but if she was she’d believe God had sent him to her, knowing how burdened she was already.

The momentary softness in her mood vanished when she looked at Paula, who had sat down on the velvet rug in the living room with empty eyes and a tear-streaked face. She took another steadying breath, then walked over and sat on the couch.

“Come here, sweetie.” She said softly, patting her lap. Paula obeyed and settled herself in her mother’s lap, cuddled up in her arms. “I’m sorry mommy, really.”

It sounded so broken. Raquel looked at her sadly and stroked through the feather-like hear on her head. “I know, baby, I know. That’s not what I want to talk about with you.” Paula straightened at that, her eyes a big brown sea of misery and questions.

“When Antonio said you didn’t have a dad…what did you say? You didn’t hit him right away did you?” Paula shook her head an aggressive no and Raquel thought she’d seen another pang of hurt cross the girl’s face at the mention of her dad. “No, I said he was wrong. I said I have a daddy, he’s just not here but he will come back!” She said that last part with so much confidence, it only broke Raquel’s heart further. “And what did he say that made you hit him?”

The facial expression of her little girl changed. It contorted, and oh how well she knew this face. The first tears started falling before she could even start speaking. “He- He said that- that he will never come back-“ The sobs interrupted her speaking and Raquel soothingly stroked her back. “Shh, it’s okay sweetie.” She whispered. “He will never come back because he doesn’t love me.” She hiccuped and as soon as the last word was out, she buried her face in her mother’s neck and sobbed so hard her whole body shook with the effort. Raquel could only sit there and hold her, let her tears stain the straps of her dress and kiss her head periodically. In that moment, she made another decision, one that would alter her life just as much as the one she’d made in the car.

When Paula had calmed down enough, Raquel whispered quietly: “Paula, baby, you know that daddy loves you just as much as I do.”

“Then why doesn’t he come back?” The small voice came out muffled from where the girl was still burying her face, but the mistrust and sadness that spoke out of it was as clear as ever.

“Oh baby. He will.” Raquel said, just as softly, a promise sealed with the sincerity of the kiss she pressed to Paula’s forehead. “He will.” The words made her own stomach churn, alarms in her head go off and the emotions she felt towards _him_ run wild. She was scared, in a way.

That night, when the dirty pans that had been filled with cooked vegetables and noodles earlier lay in the sink and her daughter was in bed, hopefully dreaming about the stories Raquel had read to her before she’d snored off, the woman sat in her rocking chair once again. Another night, another glass of wine. The light from the massive lamp above her head was contortedly mirrored in the red liquid inside and Raquel briefly thought it looked like a big tree. One of those huge oak trees Sergio would always show her when they were on another hike, one of those underneath whose long branches they would enjoy the cooling shadows when they took a break. She washed the thought away with a long swig.

The glass was almost empty when she unlocked her phone. This was it. This was what she had dreaded doing, what she never thought she would do. So many things depended on this. So many problems of hers were connected to this. And yet, she opened YouTube and began typing.

_You know what? Why not. Deal. Text me if you’re not too scared to handle this, then we’ll negotiate the details_ _😉_

She hated that she was playing this game. That she had agreed to open Pandora’s Box when she knew how bad of an idea it was. But what she hated most was that this was also the only way. She needed to make Paula happy. And herself. That last thought hung in the air, and it confused her, made her mind whirr with possibilities and hopes she had pushed away for her own good. Another glass of wine washed that away, too.

Raquel waited for nearly half an hour. The seconds ticked to minutes on the antique clock on one side of the living room wall, and every time clock hand counting the seconds ticked full circle she checked her notifications. It became a ritual. With every passing minute she would look at her phone and drink some more wine.

The wine was one of the reasons why, when her doorbell rang, she didn’t immediately stand. It was close to midnight, who the hell could that be? Her mother went to sleep at ten thirty PM sharp every day of the week, and she paid painfully close attention to that fact. Like a clockwork. It couldn’t be her. Had Ángel forgotten something? But her kitchen had been clean when she’d arrived back earlier with Paula, he really had tidied everything up. And Ángel also wasn’t the person to forget something at her place and much less the person to disturb her that late in the night because of it.

After the second ring of the doorbell, the sound finally registered, and she got up on mildly unsteady feet. A tad bit slower than usual, she walked to the shiny white door. Maybe it was Ágata? She certainly had a thing for showing up spontaneously. On good days, the milky glass of the door only allowed a far-fetched assumption about the person on the other side, and that was at daylight and without being intoxicated. Now, she could only make out a proportionally wide figure. There went her guess of it being Ágata. Who in their right mind- Another ring sounded through the house and god help her if this person woke up her sleeping daughter she would make their life hell.

This thought very prominent in her mind, she opened the door, ready to yell at whoever was awaiting her on the other side – only to look in those wide, beautifully brown eyes that still haunted her dreams, those eyes that had taken her breath away the second she’d gazed into them for the first time. Sergio Marquina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to add that Raquel is no alcoholic, despite of how many times I've made her drink wine in the past few chapters. She just really loves it and she knows her limit and it's part of her routine: some old, good red wine.   
> Okay, I'm very excited for the next chapter. SERQUEL IS FINALLY TOGETHER IN ONE CHAPTER :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visit lets feelings bubble to the surface. Also, Sergio has a brilliant idea.

The time Raquel’s alcohol-induced brain needed to process who exactly was standing in front of her was the time Sergio needed to move his foot between the threshold and the door, so when Raquel, after what felt like an eternity but actually only lasted about two seconds, made a move to throw the door closed again, it didn’t work. “What the fuck?” Oh, how lucky she was that Paula was sleeping safely upstairs. The small space that was still open only revealed part of Sergio’s face, and Raquel couldn’t quite make out the expression he was pulling. Was he amused? Happy? Surprised? But why would he be surprised if he was the one currently standing at her doorstep in the middle of the night unannounced? Why was she even thinking about this? Thinking was hard, and her brain hurt only trying to tie strings of questions together. The only thing she knew was that she didn’t need, didn’t _want_ this man anywhere near her.

“Raquel? Can I- can I come in?” He sounded reluctant, confused, and it was then that she realized she’d just stood with her hands pressing against the door, trying to close it for the past few seconds. No words had left her mouth while millions of thoughts had rumored though her brain at a speed that made her nauseous.

“No.” Was her firm answer. The only thing she knew right now, really.

“Raquel- please.”

When she didn’t move one millimeter and her mouth remained closed, he sighed.

“Let me explain. I got your reply, and you said you wanted to text, and I thought hey, she’s probably sitting in her rocking chair all alone with a glass of wine and nothing to do so I can just visit her and we plan out the details of our collab and I didn’t…yeah.” He trailed off awkwardly, evidently having only just concluded that this hadn’t been one of his brightest ideas.

The wine in her system screamed at her to bask in the awkwardness. It was only fair, after all, she had sweated over her YouTube replies so many times. She inhaled, keeping her hands on the door like a lifeline. God knew she was in desperate need of one.

“Let me get this straight. You thought it would be a good idea to just knock on my door in the middle of the night after not having even seen me from afar in more than a year to plan out a collaboration I had _just_ agreed one about an hour ago?”

The irony was dripping from her voice like sweet, golden honey, and it made the whole scene so much better.

Even through the small space of the door and its frame she could identify the look on his face. That one she knew all too well.

“I-shit. Yeah, yeah that’s about it. I’m an idiot.”

She snorted the same time he removed his foot from between the door. Fuck. No. This wasn’t what she’d wanted, this wasn’t what she’d intended to do, no, _this was not how she had wanted to react._ Damn that wine. Damn the lightheadedness and bubbly personality that always came with it.

A long moment of silence stretched on between them. Above, stars sparkled in the dark nightsky, the almost full moon sent rays of soft silver light down onto her porch. A warm breeze of wind, whispering happily of the beginning of summer, brushed through the bushes in her yard. The way it disheveled that mop of dark hair on Sergio’s head stubbornly caught Raquel’s attention. She knew he was looking at her, directly, trying to catch her eyes. She knew she couldn’t budge. Not like this, not at midnight on her doorstep when everything was as complicated as the night was calm and emotions coiling inside her heart risked overruling her rationality.

An eternity later, he cleared his throat.

“Right, I best get going then.” He flashed an apologetic smile, one that transferred the words “I’m sorry” as clearly as if they had been spoken. They never had needed words to truly communicate.

She watched him turn around in slow motion. Everything felt exhaustingly slow, like she had been dragged into quicksand. She was sinking, drowning. Slowly. Oh so slowly. His leather jacket-clad back gained another centimeter of distance from her. She sank deeper. How convenient it would be, how easy to stop their misery. She would just have to cry out-

“No wait!”

Just like that, he stopped, turned around. His eyes sparkled; his surprised gaze caught hers. He was asking. _Why?_ This time, she didn’t let the question fade out into the night unanswered, ignored. She stepped away from the door and opened it.

“Now that you’ve come here this late, it would be stupid to just send you away again. A lot of car accidents happen…at night.” She wanted to hit her head against the nearest wall for that last comment. The wine, it was the wine, she convinced herself.

A hue of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, made his dimples appear as he walked towards her again and finally, finally stepped inside. Those dimples. Once she’d spent a whole night kissing them, telling Sergio how sweet and handsome they made him look. Goddamn, the alcohol in her blood wouldn’t make her stop thinking about it. If anything, it served as a catalyst to all the thoughts she specifically didn’t want to think at this time. _Not now._ But he smelled so good. So familiar. So, he still used the same aftershave. _Shit_.

She willed herself to just stop, don’t think, distance herself from him. She took a step back as she closed the door – and stumbled.

Sergio’s arm shot out to steady her. “Woah, hey, you okay?” His hand burned on her arm, she thought. Then, _such a silly thing to think. Hands can’t burn._ She wasn’t processing half the things she was thinking. How much wine had it been again? It took a few seconds for her to answer, but he waited patiently. “I’m- fine. Just a little dizzy is all, I think I may have had one glass too much tonight.”

He snorted, a full-on grin now adorning his face. “A surprise for sure.” She looked up at him sharply but let her look speak for itself. “You mean like you standing in my doorway close to 1 AM in the morning? Yeah.” He just grinned even wider; a response she was sure she’d never get enough of. “Um, come in. Do you want something to drink?” She started walking towards the kitchen. His hand had never left her arm, and she noticed the moment it sneaked from there to the small of her back as he was following her. It burned again. _Impossible_ , she admonished herself.

“A glass of water would be great.” He stated, and Raquel had the suspicion that he just didn’t want to make a fuss. That was“I’ve got apple juice too, you know.”

At that, Sergio’s eyes lit up. “The good one?” Her turn to snort. “Yes, the good one.”

Years ago, when she’d sent him grocery shopping with Paula and he’d had no clue what to get (because men were men and especially Sergio was lost without her sometimes), he’d bought apple juice instead of their standard orange juice and he and Paula had started loving it so much that it became a steady part of their kitchen inventory. Paula still drank it with passion to this day.

Setting the glass before him Raquel could see the smile his lips were twitching into. “Don’t hide that smile of yours, I’ve always liked seeing it.” She found herself saying and at the same time bit down on her tongue _hard_. Why was this happening to her?

And oh, oh god, now he was smiling. “I know a lot of other things you’ve always liked.” Playful, his eyebrows knitted together in a mocking of the lustrous face she knew he could pull. Jesus. If her mother knew what was happening, she would either scream or try to drown them in Holy water, Raquel thought in a flash of amusement. Which didn’t last long because with Sergio’s next word, she became aware of the fact that she had been staring at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re very tipsy right now.”

She shook her head (bad idea, very bad, as she instantly became dizzy again), but nevertheless retreated into the living room to come back to him with her half-empty glass of wine in her hands. He opened his mouth to say something against it, undoubtedly, but she held up her hand.

“If you’re going to complain about me drinking I will kick you out again.” That shut him up sufficiently. She knew about ten other ways that would have shut him up. _Stop thinking goddamnit._

They nipped at their drinks in silence for the next few minutes. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward or anything. Even though Raquel wished it would have been so she could have an excuse to get him away from her, out of her house as fast as possible. It felt so good to have him sit beside her again. Just have him there with her. She had missed his smell, his looks, his hair, his eyes, even his stupidly thick-rimmed glasses. She’d missed it all and that scared her, even in her tipsy state.

He cleared his throat. A sure sign he was going to talk, so Raquel kept silent.

“Um, I’ve had this idea for quite some time now.” The way he scratched at his neck in this insecure manner of his struck her as cute. She hated it. “Where we could both collab on our safe grounds. We would shoot in the center and outskirts of Madrid, show them the sweet little paths and alleyways and not that well known sites to visit, that would be my part. Yours would be the most “in” places of Madrid or- whatever.” He trailed off, and Raquel just _knew_ he was insecure about his idea. So damn cute. Fuck. She wished her brain would just stop working. At the same time though, she was genuinely impressed with his creativity and the way it fit both their styles perfectly. She couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up in her, the kind she always felt at a cool, promising concept.

“You know, that is actually an amazing idea. I wasn’t expecting you to bring on something that good but“ – at that part he winced ironically – “It’s great! We could go to this tiny coffee shop I recently discovered, the one with the sweet fairy lights all over and oh my god I know so many places we could show them!” She was beaming at him now, but she didn’t even notice, everything just made _sense_ to her for the first time in weeks. It felt – exhilarating.

And then she had an idea, a fairly brilliant one. “I have pictures of it and other beautiful places in Madrid! Ágata and I recently did a photoshoot, you know, because her girlfriend is a professional photographer, and I have all these great locations on my laptop now.” Raquel knew she was rambling. She didn’t care. She knew Sergio was into it when she looked him in the eyes and saw the same excitement, the same shiny drive of creativity sparkle in them. It made her heart beat unbelievably much faster.

“I’m gonna get the laptop, wait.” With that, she hopped down from the barstool – and fell.

Everything was blurry at the edges. It seemed like little flames were bursting up in her mind, on her arms, in her peripheral vision. She felt incredibly dizzy. The kitchen counter in front of her kept spiraling out of view and her right hand pulsed with hot pain. “Fuck.” She muttered under her breath and it took her two seconds to realize she wasn’t alone. The image of Sergio, crouched above her, came into focus. “Shit, Sergio. I’m-“ “Way too tipsy, yes I have noticed.” He smiled that smile of his and his voice sounded like a calming rock in a fast current. “I can’t see any injuries; you only scratched your hand on the counter when you fell but it doesn’t look that bad. Can you get up?” She let his voice drizzle over her and calm her nausea down. Then she nodded. He offered his hand, and she took it as she heaved herself up on her legs again. Everything seemed to be fine. Until the dizziness reappeared.

Everything happened in a breathtaking haze. All she heard was his calming voice and footsteps. All she felt were his arms around her.

_His arms around her. Holding her steady. Picking her up. Carrying her. She felt so safe. So tranquil. So – tired._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I couldn't post on Monday, but school and my mental health kept me from doing so. To make up for it, I made this chapter extra long and cheesy! I needed to stop myself writing or otherwhise this would've all ended up in an 8000-words chapter. Remember though, this is a slow burn and it's only the beginning so you have some more bittersweet pining to endure. For now, isn't Sergio literally the cutest?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I guess you could say...the morning after?  
> !slight tw for a light panic attack!

Raquel woke with a start, sat up in a matter of seconds and grimaced as the migraine shot through her brain. She needed a second to steady herself – breathe in, breathe out, calm the pain. In another lifetime it felt, she had sat with Sergio every Sunday morning and watched yoga routines on the sports channel with him, and even though she only did it for him, the breathing tricks had proven themselves to be rather helpful. Sergio, Sergio, something in her brain was ringing, something else than her migraine. She turned her head slowly, finally aware her surroundings, got a glance at the clock and– shit.

Had someone else been there to bear witness, Raquel could have actually got an entry in the Guinness World Records with how fast she leapt out of her bed. Stealing another glance at the clock (just to verify) at the same time she almost screamed. Almost. She was a middle aged, calm woman after all. Which didn’t change the fact that Paula should have been at preschool about an hour ago. Changing into a washed out pair of jeans and a simple shirt on her way through the hallway, she yelled: “Paula, Honey I’m so sorry you have to get up fast now, we’re in a bit of a hurry!” When she reached the door and pushed it open, her heart stopped.

The small bed at the other end of the room was empty. “Paula?” She yelled again, maybe her daughter had missed the urgency and wanted to play hide and seek? But a look in the closet, underneath the bed and around the corner of the room confirmed this to be wrong. Slightly panicking now, Raquel turned and sped down the staircase, taking two steps at a time and almost slipping on the last. “Paula, baby please come out, we don’t have time for this!” Nothing. Raquel methodically checked the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom in the hallway, even the laundry room. She looked into every nook and niche, behind the sofa, in one of the laundry baskets. No Paula, nowhere. Her breathing was becoming faster, too fast. Think, Raquel, think. Don’t slip into panic. Where else could she be? Had one of the preschool moms offered Paula a ride? But no one lived in their direction. It just didn’t make sense. But surely no one could have abducted her sweet baby while she was sleeping, no, Raquel had installed an alarm bell and cameras since Alberto. Slowly losing her mind, Raquel did the only rational thing left in her overwhelmed mind – she ran back upstairs to get her phone. Call the police.

Raquel’s mind was racing faster than her legs were carrying her into the room. Her sweet, sweet angel. And it was her own fault. For getting so inappropriately drunk, for losing control like this. Everything was closing, the walls felt like they were about to suffocate her, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t _think_. Her breathing coming out in shaky puffs, Raquel stumbled into her bedroom. What was she doing? Where was Paula? Was she ever coming back? Fuck, she could be anywhere, with anyone- focus. The phone. She took a step closer to the bedstand. And then she saw it.

Right next to where her phone was still connected to the charger stood a glass of water on a ripped piece of paper. Another step. Another breath, not quite as erratic as before. The scribbled handwriting seemed oddly familiar. Closer. Now she could read the content:

_Morning sleepyhead, I sincerely hope you don’t have a concussion, otherwise it would be kinda shitty for me to leave you alone. Though you looked fine when I woke up and your head wasn’t bleeding or anything. You’re gonna have a terrible headache, please take the aspirin. Taking Paula to preschool now._

_Text me when you wake up._

_love,_




Raquel’s lungs were burning with unreleased breath she’d been holding while reading and she sank down on the floor. Her shaky hands held onto the note like a lifeline. Paula was safe. She was safe and sound at preschool. She was okay. Her brain needed several minutes and many steady intakes of oxygen to properly process this.

When her hands finally stopped shaking, she started noticing the splitting headache that was thrumming in the back of her head. The bastard had been right. As soon as she had taken the aspirin and was thinking clearly again, she started piecing together all the frayed memories she had from last night.

One glass of wine.

Two glasses.

A third- the doorbell ringing.

Sergio. Sergio. Sergio.

His hands, his smile, his voice.

More wine.

It was getting ridiculous.

Excitement at a proposed idea of his. Then-

Pain. Disorientation. 

Tiredness. Exhaustion.

“I got you.” Whispered into darkness. Warmth.

Raquel felt the strong need for so much wine it should put her into a coma where she luckily wouldn’t have to suffer through another conversation with the man ever again. She was angry. At herself, mostly. But a small twisted part of her brain was angry at him, too. For what exactly? For being so unbearable (unbearably hot and sweet)? For opening up an old wound that should have stayed closed? For just taking her daughter. Without her permission. For crashing back into her life like a hurricane with no regard for possible destruction when he hadn’t even properly been back in her own life. He’d had no right.

Seething, Raquel picked up her phone. Her first impulse was to call Ágata, but she would just yell at her for drinking too much and in turn discourage her from yelling at Sergio. And that was what she needed to do right now.

The line gave exactly one beep before he picked up. Classic. Ironic. He would wait for her until the end of the world had come, oblivious to how much she didn’t want him to, resented him for doing just that.

“Good Morning there, did you finally wake up? It’s been two hours, sweetheart.” Somehow, his light flirtatious chuckle only served to aggravate her more. How dare he?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” It wasn’t a yell. Not quite, at least.

The line went silent for five full seconds before Raquel ultimately snapped.

“You asshole, you literal dickhead! You scared me to death, do you fucking know what I was thinking when I couldn’t find Paula in her bed, let alone the rest of the entire house? Do you have any idea how scared I was? Did you, for once in your undoubtedly heroic plan, stop to think about how I would feel if I woke up with my daughter nowhere to be found? And not only that! We agreed, you and I, that you wouldn’t be in her life anymore, we both said it was for the best. And what do you do?! March right back in. You absolute idiot!”

Her voice felt raw, tears stung in her eyes, but she didn’t know whether it was anger or fright that had put them there. She didn’t allow them to break free.

“Don’t ever text me again. Don’t ever call me again. I mean it.”

Now she was crying. Her voice shook.

“Or I’ll call the police for good this time.”

With that, she hung up. It was over. Over. Over. She didn’t know what to do.

Raquel Murillo had done it again. She had trusted a man she had let into her heart way too easily, only to have her trust betrayed and broken.

Heartaching numbness spread through her as she walked into her room, took out a suitcase and started packing. Bras, slips, socks, shirts, pants, toothbrush, and toothpaste. A smaller, pink suitcase. Dresses, tights, toys, books.

Half an hour later she was on the way to Paula’s preschool, two packed suitcases in the trunk.

“It’s okay baby, we’re making a fun trip, you’ll see. It’s going to be amazing. We’re going to see auntie Allie!” Raquel whispered into the soft blond hair of her daughter as they left the school building together, the strawberry scent anchoring her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long, very long time and I want to say thank you to everyone who stuck with me and read this new chapter. Thank you for not giving up on me and this work. I had to figure some stuff out personally, and I'm still not all done with it so I can promise no consistency in uploading new chapters, I just have to ask you all to trust that I'm not abandoning this fic, it's become so dear to me.  
> I always love reading your comments, so let me know what you think! Oh also, who do you think "Auntie Allie" is?

**Author's Note:**

> here's the tweet that started it all: https://twitter.com/softserquel/status/1247121202730196996?s=20


End file.
